On Christmas Eve of 1999, after unsuccessfully trying to get a job in radio, I got hired waiting tables at a new restaurant that had just opened in Warrenville. The only thing I knew about Rock Bottom was that it was in front of a movie theater and hadn’t opened yet.

I quickly learned that this restaurant had its own working brewery on full display, and that the only beer they served was brewed in-house. I had been legally of age to drink beverage alcohol for only six months but even then I knew my tastes were more sophisticated than the average beer drinker. I had already moved beyond “lite” beer and was routinely drinking Miller Genuine Draft (and, if I was going to be encountering a need for intelligent nightlife, Zima.)